His Name
by Sreya
Summary: After escaping the attack on Hoth, a young Rebel waits for news at the rendezvous point. (Result of a writing exercise in 2006 to write a romance with minimal dialogue)


_Rendezvous. It means an assembly point, a prearranged meeting, a gathering. Hundreds of Rebel soldiers crammed into a tiny, temporary base made for more noise than seemed possible. The cries of reunion echoed off hangar walls. Pilots leaping from their fighters rushed to find friends. Refugees poured off transports, seeking separated loved ones._

_Those who had arrived earlier crowded the entrance, calling the names of those still missing._

She was still in awe. This simple, stout, unbelievable man was spending his precious free time with her.

She was responsible for the medical center today. All the patients, and the droids that cared for them, were her responsibility. In other circumstances, it would have been odd that one so young should hold such a great responsibility.

But this was the Rebellion. And on Hoth, a remote and difficult base, age and previous experience seldom factored into the duties assigned. Capability and willingness were far more important. And she was both willing and capable to run the ward.

At the moment, her only patient was Luke Skywalker, and as the man was nearly ready for release, there was little for her to do but file paperwork.

Little to do, until _he_ poked his head in.

The site of his curly hair so close to her, dark eyes keenly focused on her, was still so new. She knew so little about him... he was a ship's mechanic, had been at Hoth since they'd established the base, and was roughly the same age as she.

She knew nothing else.

His hand reached out and brushed her cheek, sending tingles down her spine.

No, that wasn't true. She did know something else. iHe thinks I'm beautiful./i

He'd never said it in so many words. Rather, it was something she sensed in her soul. She could read it in the way he fingered her thin, dark hair. His eyes would trace the contours of her face, recording every centimeter. His fingers would lightly caress her shoulder, her arm, her cheek... every touch communicating reverance.

She smiled again, ducking her head as she blushed.

_She bounced forward on her toes, anxiously peering over the crowd of Rebels around her. "Which squadron?" she called desperately. "Did the mechanics make it out?"_

_No one heard her question, but someone else, someone closer to the front, called out the same query. Her heart fluttered in her chest as the answer came back. His squadron. It was_ his _squadron!_

Anyone who had wandered past the small medical office would have never guessed that anything extraordinary was happening. The conversation was light, focused on discussion of work, light banter to brighten the mood.

But if someone had stepped inside, he might have noticed that the temperature was just higher than normal for a room on Hoth. He might have noticed that the cheeks of the young Rebels were just a little too pink, their eyes just a bit too bright.

If she had been thinking clearly, she would have found the encounter ridiculous. It was something out of a romance vid, a fantasy. These things just don't _happen._

But somehow, he made it happen. Without a single kiss, without a word of confirmation, she knew that he loved her.

And she couldn't help but to love him.

His hand slowly moved down her arm, and his fingers intertwined with hers. She studied their hands, clasped so easily that she couldn't tell where her own fingers ended, and his began.

Bravely, she met his eyes and opened her mouth to share this revelation.

The base alarm sounded first.

_He wasn't there. Some of the mechanics would be on the next shuttle. But the lists were being updated with new information... lists of the missing in action... lists of the dead._

_The excitement drained from those still waiting at the hangar. Once again, she turned with the others and found the room with the data screens. They crowded together, lending support as they waited._

_Deep inside, she knew she'd be returning to the hangar. Because he wouldn't be on a list._

_But it would be cruel not to wait with the others. Because the others would find names on a list. So she waited with them._

He was needed for the pilots. They needed their ships prepared, so that they could defend the escaping transports.

She was needed to pack up precious medical supplies, to hurry it onto the first transport out, so that the medical center at the rendezvous would be ready.

She begged him to stay anyway.

His eyes reflected her pain, her fear of losing him. iIt isn't fair!/i She'd only just found him, and the thought of losing him...

He leaned down, and for the first time, he kissed her. He held her close to him, cradling her with his hands on her back. She kissed him, memorizing the emotion, the sensation. As gently as he held her, she gripped him with all her strength. The harder she held him, the more real he was to her... the more a part of her. She murmured his name, and tucked her face into his shoulder, tears leaking into his heavy coat. "Don't go."

Gently, he lifted her chin. Her eyes met his, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. His own eyes shone with fear, and something much more intense. He brushed the long strands of her hair out of her face. "You'll see me again at the Rendezvous. I promise."

"How do you know?" she demanded. "How do you know you won't -"

He lay a finger on her lips, and smiled. But it was a different smile than the one he offered while joking with her, or asking about her duties. It was a smile that spoke of knowledge. "I know. I know because I love you."

He kissed her again, pouring his love into her. Tears poured down her face as she kissed him back, tears of joy and sorrow, of fear and courage.

And then he was gone.

_She approached the screen with the others. After all, it was the routine to look. Everyone had to look at the screens._

_The room had grown as noisy as the hangar. Those who found names on the list were crying, some in soft sobs, others in loud shrieks of mourning. Her heart went out to them. But she could not offer comfort until after she looked at the screens. It was the way things were._

_She read through the updated missing list, but of course, he was not there. She moved on to the next list, passing a young man who was ripping his uniform in grief. She looked down at the list, and turned to move on._

_Then, she turned back. The sounds around her melted into silence. The edges of her vision darkened, and the ground tilted beneath her feet._

**_His name._**


End file.
